


If we die, we die...

by Dellanir



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Spoilers, post s5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:32:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellanir/pseuds/Dellanir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valar Morghulis.</p><p>Or rather, what happens to them after they die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jon Snow

 

Blackness.

That was all Jon could see after he fell on the ground, blood oozing from his chest. He felt cold. And not just from the frozen ground, or the lost blood coloring it red. It was from seeing Olly, the little boy he trained and cared for after the wildlings killed his village, delivering the last, fatal blow. Ironically, the same boy who killed the love of his life. He probably should have known better. He could almost hear Ygritte’s mocking “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

Or at least the “Jon Snow” part.

 

Wait.

 

He _could_ hear it.

Why is he even still thinking?

“Jon Snow!”

Shouldn’t he be dead?

A smack on his face proved otherwise. The dead don’t get smacked... or at least they can’t feel it.

Another smack. Both his cheeks throbbed now.

What the-

He finally gained control of his eyelids and wasted no time opening them.

 

The first thing he saw was the red hair.

The second thing he saw was her scowl.

The third thing... he didn’t really see, as her fist successfully blocked his vision and rather painfully connected with his nose.

“Ow! Ygritte, I’m awake!”

“I know,” came her satisfied reply.

He grinned at her, despite the pain it caused him. Her scowl finally disappeared and she smiled back at him. The radiant smile he loved so much and missed every day.

 

“You lovebirds ever gonna stop staring at each other?” a familiar voice yelled from nearby. Tearing his eyes off Ygritte, Jon found the source almost immediately. Karsi, one of the wildling elders he met at Hardhome, approached them.

Ygritte stood up and offered him a hand. He grabbed it and she pulled him up with such force, their bodies clashed. Karsi just rolled her eyes. “I need to talk to him,” she told the readhead.

“Don’t forget; he’s mine,” Ygritte warned, and ran off.

Jon’s gaze followed her and only then he noticed the vast wasteland, for the lack of a better term, they were in. No trees or plants of any kind, no rocks, no animals. At least the terrain wasn’t completely flat. He even spotted some hills. “What is this place?” he asked.

“Realm of the dead. Afterlife, if you will,” Karsi offered.

Only then it all clicked together.

He was dead. Ygritte was dead, but he knew that all too well. And Karsi... her fate was far worse than death.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” he said. She waved her hand, as if it were nothing, so he continued. “I saw the White Walker raise you from the dead. How come you’re here?”

“He raised my body, all right, but I’m still stuck here,” she motioned around herself, “along with all of them.” At that, she pointed behind herself and Jon realized that what he thought were hills in the back were in fact wildlings. Hoards and hoards of wildlings.

“Oh,” was the only reply he could come up with as he stared, his mouth wide open.

“Hey!” Karsi snapped her fingers before him, bringing him back to reality. “Are my daughters safe?” she asked, her expression much softer now.

“Yes. We got the remaining free folk through the Wall. Tormund is with them.”

“Good,” she replied, her voice full of relief. “Thank you.”

Jon nodded at her.

“So how did you end up here?” she pried.

He looked at her. “The Night’s Watch wasn’t happy with me saving the free folk.”

“Fucking crows,” she spat. When he glared at her, she added, “with a few exceptions, of course. Ser King Crow,” she taunted.

He barked a laugh.

Just then, an arrow flew between them.

“Your girlfriend seems jealous,” Karsi noted with a chuckle. “Best be off, then, before I get one in my back.”

“Or three.” Ygritte was already within earshot.

The wildling elder just gave Jon a smile and left, leaving him to deal with the fiery archer.

 

“Did you miss me, Jon Snow?” Ygritte grinned as she came to him.

“Would I miss the woman who nearly killed me, _twice_ , and then beat me up _after_ I died?” he teased. “Why yes, I would.” He grabbed her and pulled her to him.

She smiled, and then her lips were on his, her hands slowly threading through his hair and she chuckled. “I’m gonna ruin your perfect curls, now.”

He kissed her. “I don’t suppose there are any caves here?”

She wrapped her leg around him. “There’s nobody here, now, just us.”

He suddenly found it very hard to form sentences. “Someone,” kiss, “might,” kiss, “come.”

Ygritte laughed and pulled at his cloak. “That would be us, if you do your job,” she remarked with a grin. The heavy cloak fell on the ground.

The rest of their clothes followed soon after.

 

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“Maybe if you didn’t, you wouldn’t end up dead.”

“Same could be said about you.”

“You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

 

“Rise and shine, lovebirds!” Karsi yelled from afar.

Jon opened his eyes, and saw Ygritte looking at him, curled into his side, her head on his chest. “How can you even tell it’s morning here?” Everything around them looked the same. No sun, no stars, no moon, no clouds... even colors seemed dull.

“You just know.”

“I thought I know nothing?” he taunted with a grin.

She kissed him. “You know some things,” she admitted.

“Do I?” He gave her a wicked smile and rolled over, ending on top of her.

She grinned. “Thought you didn’t want others to see,” she noted, as she stroked his messy hair.

“Don’t think it really matters after last night.”

“Damn right it doesn’t,” Karsi said, suddenly appearing next to them. “You ever gonna get up or do you plan on fucking all day long too?”

Jon and Ygritte laughed. The idea was certainly tempting...

“Mance is waiting for you, King Crow,” Karsi said and left, shaking her head and muttering something about readheads and crows.

Jon’s smile vanished. “I forgot about Mance.”

“What a great friend you are,” Ygritte remarked.

He chuckled and grabbed his clothes. His effort to dress proved difficult, what with a certain archer stealing his clothes and her naked body distracting him even more. After a while, though, he succeeded, and even coaxed her to put on her clothes as well. Truly, a miracle was achieved.

 

“Took you long enough,” was Karsi’s greeting when Jon and Ygritte finally got to the wildling camp. Jon at least looked apologetic, but Ygritte was just smug.

As they made their way to Mance’s tent, and Jon experienced a strong sense of déja vu, he realized everywhere around him were only the wildlings.

“Is this afterlife only for free folk?” he asked Ygritte. “I mean, surely there must be a lot of other dead people.”

“There are. They just don’t like to stick with us. We don’t need those fuckers anyway,” she muttered. A pause. “Miss your crow friends, Jon Snow?” she mocked.

“I might pay them a visit. If I can,” he added.

“‘Course you can. We don’t build giant walls here.”

“Funny.”

 

A big tent stood before them. Just like all that time ago. Except now, there were no guards. No need for them in the realm of the dead.

Inside, Jon found the King Beyond the Wall, Mance Rayder himself. He greeted them, and motioned for them to sit. “Finally together, eh?” he smiled at the couple.

Jon’s smile was bitter. “Yes.”

“Well, I won’t hold you here for long, don’t worry,” the King said. “I would like to thank you, Jon Snow, for what you’ve done for my people.”

“Not enough of your people,” Jon noted.

Mance shook his head. “Not your fault. Without you, all the free folk would be sitting here, while their corpses would run rampart through the wilderness. This way, there are thousands of my people missing here, and as strange as it sounds, I am glad I don’t see them here.” He paused. “I also want to thank you for killing me.”

Ygritte laughed. “That would be a first.”

“And,” Mance gave the archer a pointed look that shut her up, “Karsi told me your brothers weren’t happy with your help to us. I am truly sorry for what happened to you. You have a kind heart, Jon Snow.”

Jon half-smiled. “Everyone kept saying it would get me killed. Turns out they were right.” He shrugged.

“If I knew which crows would betray you, I would put an arrow into each and every one of them,” Ygritte threatened.

“Instead, you put arrows into my friends.” Oops.

“Maybe they’d kill you too,” she countered.

“They were _good_ friends.”

Mance stepped in. “The past is the past, boy; let it be.”

Jon sighed. “I would like to go see my friends, if we’re finished here.”

Mance nodded. “Of course. Thank you for coming here.”

“The tent or the afterlife?” Ygritte mocked.

Mance just shooed them out.

 

On their way from the wildling camp, they passed numerous wildling clans. Jon was glad he couldn’t see the giants they managed to kill. He doubted they would be happy to see him. He half expected some of the wildlings to attack him, but what would the point even be? The wildlings seemed to realize that and left them alone.

And then they got to the Thenns. The cannibals booed and screamed obscenities at the pair, but other than that, they let them go without a fight. Jon was suddenly glad everything was so dull here.

“I fucking hate Thenns,” Ygritte noted after they got through. Jon couldn’t agree more.

 

After walking for what seemed like hours through nothingness, Jon could finally see shapes and silhouettes. It wasn’t just one big mass like the wildlings, but rather more, smaller masses.

“There’s your crows,” Ygritte pointed at a group closest to them. Sure enough, as they got nearer, Jon could see his brothers just milling around.

“Jon Snow!” someone shouted. People started turning towards them, some came running all the way to them. Among them were Grenn and Pyp, Jon’s friends.

The “crows” embraced, while Ygritte stayed behind, giving them space. As she looked around, waiting for them to reconcile, she noticed a flame spreading in a straight line from the nothingness they just came through.

Odd. There were no flames here.

By the time the flame came to her, it looked like an inferno. She quickly jumped from its path, but it continued, towards...

Oh, no.

“Jon Snow!” she cried out.

It was far too late.

 

 

 

 

 

Blackness again.

He should really get used to it.

Then he heard his name.

Is the history repeating itself?

And then his eyes opened.

 

The first thing he saw was the red hair.

The second thing was the red dress.

The third thing was a flaming bowl.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Bonus:**

Ghost watched the priestess chanting above his master’s dead body. Normally, his white fur would make him visible even in the darkness of the night, but most of his front half was soaked in red, effectively hiding him in the shadows.

He made quick work of all the people who dared hurt his master. Took their throats out first, so there would be no screams.

He especially enjoyed killing the orchestrator of the mutiny. That man had it coming ever since he and his master stepped foot into this place.

The boy made him hesitate, though. But in the end, Ghost decided he would not risk his master’s life again, if the child ever tried to finish what they started.

Now, only the priestess remained. She did not hurt his master, true, but she was trouble nonetheless. Better to get rid of her too, just in case.

The white direwolf waited, until he could sense his master come back to life, his heart beating once again, strong as before.

And then he charged.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Edit: Bonus added, as requested :D


	2. Ygritte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is obviously taking place before the first chapter. I might do more of these for various characters in no particular order. Feel free to throw suggestions at me, and I'll see what I can do.

 

“You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

What meaningful parting words.

He probably never realized what she meant by it.

It was definitely too late to tell him now.

 

Dying was no surprise. She always knew she was going to die a lot sooner than she should. At least it was the crows who killed her. They will make sure to burn her. _He_ will make sure of that.

It was what came after that surprised her.

Death was supposed to be final. Your heart stops beating and that’s it. The end.

Some hoped they would be in a better place after they die. She always scoffed at that. Now, she could only wish they were right.

Anything would be better than this place.

 

She “woke up” among some of the other free folk. Some from her party, others from the other side of the Wall. They all looked confused, but eventually got up and walked a bit further, to a mass of free folk that spanned over the horizon.

As she stood up, she noticed her bow and a quiver full of arrows lying on the ground. Trying to figure out why they got to keep their weapons after they died and coming up with nothing, she shrugged and grabbed them. Maybe they’ll come in handy even here.

There was a giant among the recently deceased. She wondered how the crows managed to kill him. The giant took no notice of the small people around him and walked through the wildling camp, his destination unknown to her. Maybe he just saw something she was too small to see. She shrugged and followed him, carefully looking around in case she spotted some familiar faces.

There was one familiar face, and she quickly ducked out of sight before he could see her. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to Orell’s “I told you so” or anything he had to say, really.

Unfortunately, her evading Orell landed her straight into someone’s back.

Oh, if only it was just “someone”.

Styr turned around to see who dared to intrude upon him. When the Magnar of Thenns saw the hotheaded archer, he barked a cruel, unpleasant laugh. “Did you at least manage to kill your crow?” he mocked.

“No. But I watched him kill you,” she replied with a smirk, and turned to leave.

He grabbed her arm. “I knew you couldn’t do it.”

She glared at him until he let go of her. Without a word, she turned on her heel and left.

“Did you at least serve him some of that ginger minge?” he called after her.

She didn’t dignify that with a response.

 

She walked and walked, trying to find at least a somewhat tolerable person she knew. Unfortunately (or was it luckily?), most of her friends were still alive. She realized she didn’t really have that many friends. There were her clansmen, sure, but she only actually talked to a few of those. She was their hunter, so most of the time she spent alone, tracking her pray.

Then there were her relatives. She thought of her mother, who died shortly after giving birth to her. She had no idea what she looked like. She thought of her father, who raised her as best he could while occasionally climbing the Wall and raiding villages. How he did his best to describe the view from the top of the Wall, but never quite managing to quench her need to see it for herself. How she begged him not to go and his promises that he’ll be back. And he always came back. Until one day, he didn’t.

She thought of the kids she grew up with, and the people who took care of her after her father’s death. A lot of them died in snowstorms and the freezing weather, and some were still alive. And the boys she slept with, well, she’d rather avoid those completely. So really, there were only few people she could search for. And finding them in this mass of people would take her ages. Although, she probably had as much time as she needed, when she thought about it.

The ground shook and she looked back to see another giant making his way to who-knows-where. She recognized him as Mag the Mighty, the last king of the giants. How in seven hells did the crows manage to kill two of them?

Speaking of crows, what happened to their dead? She certainly didn’t see any crows here. Or other southerners, for that matter.

 

So many questions.

She needed answers.

And fuck it, she was gonna get them.

 

She stormed through the camp, looking for some kind of authority here. One of their previous kings or at least some elders or chieftains. And, most importantly, someone who’s been dead for a while.

She found no one.

That made no sense.

She knew for certain there were previous kings, and that many of the elders died before the attack on the Wall. Surely, they must be here somewhere?

She made it to the other end of the free folk mass, when she finally got to see the giants again. So this was where they stayed. It surprised her to see only three giants, two of which died today. The third one looked like a female, but she wasn’t sure, and she didn’t dare stare at them. She quickly turned around.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Orell was waiting for her at the edge of the camp.

She took a deep breath. She can do this. She needs answers, he probably has them. She can stand him for long enough to hear them. She must.

 

She walked towards him.

He grinned at her. He was mocking her, she could tell.

“You following me?” she asked him as she approached him.

“Maybe.”

She wasted no time in getting her answers. Her patience could only last so long. “How much do you know about this place?”

“Enough.”

“And?”

“I have some questions of my own, too.”

Fuck. “What do you want?”

“I want to know how it felt when you found out the truth. I heard he left you, is that true? Did you kill him or is he the reason you’re here?”

She never felt such an urge to scream like in this moment. Will he never let this go?

He wouldn’t budge. “Answer mine, I’ll answer yours.”

She gave him a cold stare. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

His smug expression made it extremely hard for her not to punch him.

At least she never agreed to tell him the details.

“I knew he was still a crow,” she began. “But I still hoped I could win his loyalty. So yes, I felt betrayed when he left me, so I tracked him down and put three arrows in him. He survived, and we met again at Castle Black. I had my arrow ready to pierce his heart, but I waited too long, and ended up with an arrow in my own heart.”

“That fucking bastard!”

“Oh, he wasn’t the one to kill me. He’d never kill me,” she said fondly. “Just as I would never kill him.”

“You can’t possibly still love him?” His horrified expression only made her more satisfied with what she just told him.

“I do.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

She grabbed an arrow and aimed her bow at him. She had enough of his attitude. “My turn.”

 

For a while, it seemed he’d let her put all her arrows into him before he gave her any answers. She definitely wouldn’t mind doing just that.

Finally, he relented. “What do you want to know?”

She actually had to pause and think which one was the most pressing question. “This place, what is it?”

“That one’s obvious, innit?” he taunted. “The place for the dead.”

“I know _that_. But why does it exist?”

He shrugged. “Why does anything exist? I don’t have an answer for this one.”

“Fine. Weapons. How come we get to keep those?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“I thought you know a lot about this place.”

“I do. I just don’t know everything.”

“I can’t believe those words just came from your mouth,” she mocked. “So what can you tell me about this place?”

“I know it doesn’t keep everyone who ever died here. Once you’re here for a certain amount of time, you fade away. Of course, at that stage there is hardly any of you left. This place makes you lose yourself. That’s why you won’t find anyone who’s been dead for more than that here. They’re gone for good.”

“How long until you pass away?”

“You may have noticed it’s hard to keep track of time around here,” he snarked. “But I believe it’s about five years or so. Even though few days here already feel like an eternity.”

“Why leave us here for those five years, then? What’s the point?”

“Nobody knows for sure. I heard rumors, though. They say it’s so we can be brought back to life.”

Huh. She pondered this for a while. Whatever the reason for staying here was, she was glad she won’t spend an eternity here. The lack of, well, everything was slowly affecting her, and she only just got here. She realized she had no idea how long she was here. An hour? A day? He was right; there was no way to tell time here, no way to differentiate between days and nights.

 

“Any more questions?” Orell asked her, breaking her from her thoughts.

“One more.”

“Shoot.”

She looked at the bow in her hand and snickered.

“You know what I meant,” Orell rolled his eyes.

“Alright. Others who died. Crows, southerners. Where are they?”

“Never cared. Probably somewhere here, but far enough. If my eagle was here, I could tell you exactly.”

“Oh, so no animals here either?”

“Not that I know of. I tried to find some to warg into. Almost warged into one of the Cave people. Never tried again.”

She laughed at that. Maybe he wasn’t such a pain in the ass after all.

“I reckon we should stick together, until we pass away for good,” he said suddenly.

Nevermind.

“I’m not staying anywhere near you.”

“I’m the only friend you’ve got here! All your friends and family are gone already!”

“First of all, you’re not my friend. And second, I would rather spend the rest of whatever this is among Thenns than with you.” The latter wasn’t exactly true. She hated Thenns probably just as much as she hated him. If she had to choose between either of those, she would rather stay completely alone.

But it had the wanted effect on the warg. “This is what I get for being nice to you,” he scoffed. “Why did I ever even try?” he mumbled to himself as he left.

She smiled. Finally, she got rid of Orell _and_ got some much needed answers. Her smile fell when she looked at the barren wasteland surrounding her.

 

Five years, huh?

Be strong, Ygritte.

You can do this.

 


	3. Shireen

When the pain finally stopped and the smoke cleared, Shireen found herself in a strange place. At first she thought the fire must have harmed her vision, for everything she saw was shrouded in strange light, as if the sun was just about to set. Yet she could see no sun or any other source of light here. If her death was a sacrifice to the Lord of Light, she expected it to be a bit brighter here, to be honest. She didn’t complain about the lack of fire, though.

She only made a few steps when she heard someone call her name.

“Uncle Renly?”

It indeed was him, along with her other uncle, Robert. Before she could ask any questions, Renly scooped her up in his arms. “Good gracious, child, you’re awfully soon,” he commented as he inspected her.

“Was it the greyscale?” Robert asked. She shook her head. “Sickness? Hunger?”

Tears started welling in her eyes. “Father had me burned alive,” she told them and couldn’t hold the tears anymore. Horrified, Renly hugged her closer. She didn’t see the look he exchanged with his brother. Robert shook his head and muttered something she couldn’t hear.

“There, there,” Renly gently patted her back as she sobbed into his shoulder. “It’s okay, little princess, no one will harm you here.”

It took a while for her to calm down. Thankfully, her uncles were more patient now than she remembered them.

“Shireen?” Renly carefully began, as all three of them were now sitting down, with the little girl on his lap. She gave him a sad look. “Why did Stannis…?” he couldn’t finish. There was no need.

She sniffled. “He was marching against the Boltons in Winterfell. But his army lost its provisions, siege weapons and a lot of men. There was no hope to win. Lady Melisandre, the Red Priestess, advised him to do it.” She started sobbing again. “I thought he loved me! Why would he do such a thing?”

Renly quickly held her close, humming her some old songs to soothe her. Robert started cursing at his brother and the “Red Bitch”, but only made it worse for Shireen so Renly motioned him to shut up. Robert tried a different approach, then.

“Ya know, kid, your father wasn’t really one for emotions. I’m still not entirely certain he had any. But he did care about you. We all know what he did to save you from the greyscale.”

“That does not excuse him from what he did to her now,” Renly hissed.

“I know! And it makes no sense, either. He was always the logical one, why would he sacrifice the only heir he had?” Robert mused.

“The only Baratheon heir, even,” Renly added sadly.

“There’s still my children!” Robert reminded him.

Renly groaned. “How many times do I have to tell you? They’re not your kids!”

“Not with the incest again! That’s disgusting!”

“But true. Everyone knows it. Except the kids, maybe.” Renly shrugged.

Shireen stopped crying again. Even chuckled a bit at their banter. Renly wiped the remainder of her tears away and kissed her forehead. “Better?” he asked her. She nodded. “Good. Now let’s play Ride the Stag with your uncle!”

Before Robert could process what was happening, Shireen was sitting on his shoulders, holding on to his hair as if her life depended on it. Renly was bent over, laughing, but he only had seconds to get his bearing before his older brother started chasing him, the girl on his shoulders squeeing with joy.

For hours, the two brothers did their best to cheer up their little niece. It finally seemed like she forgot all the horrors she went through when suddenly…

“Mother?”

Out of nowhere, Selyse Baratheon appeared on the same spot as Shireen before her. She looked around, confused, before she spotted her daughter. “Oh, my baby girl!” she scrambled to her feet and embraced her child. Shireen was paralyzed from shock, both from seeing her mother here and receiving maternal affection for the first time in her life.

Both Robert and Renly stared at them in shock. “Quick! Slap me, ‘cause I must be hallucinating,” Robert said. Renly happily obliged. “It didn’t work! Do it again!” Renly rolled his eyes but he wouldn’t dare miss a chance to slap his brother, especially when he asked for it.

Shireen managed to free herself from her mother’s embrace and stepped backwards, to the safety of her uncles’ presence. Only then did Selyse notice them. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Nice to see you too, Selyse,” Robert greeted her in the same tone. “What took you so long?”

Renly smirked and put a hand on Shireen’s shoulder. Selyse glared at them.

“What happened to you, Mother?”

Selyse regained her composure. “I’d like to talk to my daughter alone,” she told them coldly.

“Only if Shireen wants to,” Renly said. The girl looked at him and slightly shook her head.

“How dare you?” Selyse was outraged. “After all I-“

“If you say “did for you” I will punch you in that ugly face of yours,” Robert interrupted.

“Look who’s talking,” the woman muttered. She looked around, searching for any allies she might call for help. There was no one. And nothing. She changed strategies. “Shireen,” she began softly. Renly’s hold on the girl tightened, ready to protect her from her fanatic mother. “I know I haven’t been the best mother,” Robert laughed at that, but she ignored him, “but I tried to stop them, I really did.”

“Not at first,” Shireen told her. “I called for you. I begged you.”

“I’m so sorry, my child. They wouldn’t let me through! I wanted to save you!”

Shireen said nothing. She didn’t see her mother back then, but she could hear her desperate cries mixing with her own cries of pain.

“After that, I couldn’t live with myself, so I grabbed a rope and went into the woods,” Selyse finished. She looked at her daughter expectantly.

The princess looked up at Renly and gave him a small nod. He released her. She carefully walked to her mother and hugged her. Their tender moment was cut short when a man appeared nearby. A soldier. And soon another. And another.

The women backed up to Robert and Renly, all four of them watching as a whole army appeared around them. Stannis’s army.

And then, after a while, Stannis himself showed up. Selyse shrieked as she saw him, his head cut off but somehow still sitting on his neck. Shireen started crying. Her sacrifice meant nothing. They lost. The Baratheons were no more.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Renly commented as they approached Stannis. He looked at them in shock. “It seems we died for nothing,” Renly accused, with Shireen standing next to him. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“I’m sorry,” Stannis simply replied. He looked at all of them. “I’m very sorry.”

“Ah, forget it,” Robert chuckled and slapped Stannis on the back. “What’s done is done. Tell us what happened. I take it the battle didn’t end well?”

Stannis gave him a look. “You could say that. Half my men deserted me during the night. Took all the horses. Boltons cut through us like knife through butter.”

“Chopped your head off, it seems?” Renly noted.

“Aye, but not the Boltons. Remember Brienne of Tarth?” he looked at his youngest brother.

“The knight? I made her my kingsguard.”

“She avenged your death. Very loyal knight, I must admit.”

Renly was surprised. He almost forgot about the fierce woman who pledged herself to him. He certainly didn’t expect her to seek out his brother and kill him.

“Now that’s what I call a grudge,” Robert laughed. “But hey, still a better death than killed by a boar.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” Shireen suddenly spoke up. Stannis looked at her. A hint of emotion appeared in his eyes as she ran to him and hugged him. This time, he hugged her right back.

“I’m sorry, too, princess.”

“So what, are we forgiving everyone everything now?” Renly asked no one in particular.

Robert slung an arm around his shoulders. “We’re stuck together, little brother, better let it all go,” he chuckled.

Renly sighed in exasperation. “And here I thought I could get some quiet in this place.” They watched Selyse make her reunion with her husband while Shireen jumped into Renly’s arms.

“Will you forgive Father?” she meekly asked him.

“For killing me with blood magic?” he gave her a deadpan stare. “Oh, let me think about it…” He watched as she held her breath, waiting. “Fiiine.” She grinned at him and pecked his cheek.

“Thank you, uncle Renly!”

“Anything for you, princess,” he smiled at her.

“Oh, I wish there was wine here, ‘cause I would drink to this moment!” Robert bellowed.

Renly cringed. “You would drink all the time, anyway.”

“But extra more for this moment!” Robert laughed and allowed Shireen to climb onto his shoulders again.

“Now what?” Stannis asked as he looked around, the soldiers scattered around, waiting for orders.

“We should pay Ned a visit!” Robert suggested. And for once, the three brothers agreed upon something.

“Forward, my mighty steed!” Shireen commanded, earning a chuckle from her uncles.

And with that, the Baratheons took off, their army following them.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this turned out longer than I intended :D
> 
> This is the last update in a while, folks, so I hope you liked it! :)
> 
> And don't forget, you can still throw suggestions who to do next at me! :D


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